


In Thrall

by Island_of_Reil



Series: In Thrall [1]
Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Blackmail, Collars, Csevet is pretty when he cries, Face Slapping, Implied/Referenced Castration, Knifeplay, Lap Sex, M/M, Mirrors, Sexual Slavery, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-01 15:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Island_of_Reil/pseuds/Island_of_Reil
Summary: Tethimar has somehow blackmailed Csevet into becoming his sex slave. Here are three vignettes from his servitude, which have been posted to fail_fandomanon in the past. I may add more in the future.





	In Thrall

Csevet stared blindly into the ornate gilt mirror in Tethimar’s bedchamber. The supple black leather of the collar contrasted sharply with the pallor of his neck and throat in the spots where Tethimar had not left bites. Through his incipient tears, it seemed to blend into the black silk pyjamas that Tethimar, standing behind Csevet, wore — giving the illusion that Csevet’s head had been sundered from his body.

“Art positively exquisite when wear’st the mark of our possession,” Tethimar crooned to him as he placed his massive hands on Csevet’s naked shoulders, making him flinch even though he had seen those hands descend upon him in the glass. “Pity, that no one will see it under thy high-collared shirts when art serving _His Serenity._ Tell us soothly, little one: does he make thee serve him as thou serv’st us?”

A pang of shame struck Csevet. So many nights he’d lain awake, palming his cock and imagining it breaching Edrehasivar, watching those beautiful Varedeise features contort with ecstasy and those thick black curls be tossed with abandon. Of course, it could never be: Edrehasivar was no marnis, lowering himself to lust after cock, and especially not that of a lowborn former courier. In answer to Tethimar’s demand, Csevet mutely shook his head.

“Imbecilic hobgoblin,” Tethimar said scornfully. “He could have anything he wanted, including thine luscious arse. He doesn’t wench, either, from what we hear. How is an emperor with no balls ever to father heirs?”

Csevet bit back angry retort after angry retort. He could have sung the praises of Edrehasivar all night, of the courage of the unusual young emperor, in contrast to this dissolute monster who took pleasure in hunting others as prey. As he had so many times before, he took refuge in a stony mask.

“Ah, how thy shoulders stiffen,” Tethimar said, kneading them in a parody of affection. “Thy body does not lie to us, Mer Aisava. Art such a loyal little thing, if that loyalty is grievously misplaced. Thou hatest us, dost not? Come, we shall not punish thee for answering a direct question in sooth.”

Csevet considered lying, then considered how it mattered not, how pointless the lie. Very, very quietly, but with stone in the words, he said, “We do.”

A heartbeat passed. Tethimar said slowly, “We do keep our oaths, so as we said we shall not hold that honest answer against thee. But —” He spun Csevet around by the shoulders and backhanded him so hard that he fell to the carpet. Csevet could feel blood trickling from his lip, but, just as at Eshoravee, he didn’t deign to put his hand to his mouth.

“— we did _not_ give thee permission to refer to thyself in the formal. Art not our equal and lover, Csevet Aisava. Art our possession and our toy. Wouldst do best to remember that in every wise.”

***

Csevet closed his eyes and shuddered as the tip of the sword parted the thin silk tunic the Tethimadeise edocharei had dressed him in.

“Of course, we will dress thee in another, and another,” Tethimar said amiably as the delicate fabric fell away on either side of the blade. “House Tethimada will never be short of silk. Hands and knees, courier boy.”

Suppressing tears, Csevet obeyed. The tip of the sword was cold, oh, so cold as it traced light patterns over the skin of his buttocks. Tethimar was not pressing hard enough to lacerate the flesh, but Csevet had no doubt that his new master would not cavil to leave such marks upon his new plaything if he so wished.

The tip descended, prodding the back of his sac, idly and lightly running up and down the seam. “Please...” Csevet choked.

“Please... what?” Tethimar sounded as though Csevet had said something vastly amusing. “Do not geld thee? We rather like thy shape, so at the moment we shan’t. That does not mean, of course, we shall never become bored with it and wish to effect some changes to it.”

The cold, terrifying touch lifted. Csevet sobbed in relief, then sobbed again as the sword tip just barely sliced open two inches of skin of his left inner thigh.

***

The chair was a heavy one, broad in back and seat; its dark wood was deeply carved, its upholstery butter-soft brown leather. A manservant had dragged it nearly up to the large mirror, perhaps a foot away. Tethimar sat in it now, his black silk robe open. Upon his powerful thighs, facing the mirror, Tethimar’s cock buried completely within him, sat Csevet. His eyes were tightly shut, and his chest heaved in rhythm with the bobbing of his painfully hard cock.

“Open thine eyes, our sweet,” Tethimar murmured in his ear before taking a sharp nip at the lobe. Csevet’s eyes flew open. “Dost see where we are joined?”

“Y-yes,” Csevet gasped.

“Is’t not the loveliest sight in the world? Our prick, rending thy tight little hole asunder, leaving thee flushed and hard and panting like the shameless whore thou art, without our having touched thine own prick even once?”

Csevet merely moaned in response, tears spilling from his eyes. A large thumb dabbed at them gently, then brushed against Csevet’s lips, pushing harder and harder until he opened them to suck his own tears from it.

“We misspoke: it is the second-loveliest sight in the world,” Tethimar whispered in Csevet’s twitching ear. “The loveliest is the sight of thee weeping as our prick splits thee in two.” He bucked his hips hard, then, bouncing Csevet on his lap and on his cock, tearing a whine from Csevet’s throat. 

When Csevet had stilled again, Tethimar continued softly, “How thou must hate thine own body for its traitorous reactions.” He reached up to viciously pinch a stiff, pale nipple, making Csevet jerk hard. “We know well thou hatest us, wouldst never return here again if it were thy choice… but, time and time again, we leave thee fucked out and trembling and whimpering.” He lifted Csevet bodily into the air, inches above his lap, then slammed him down upon his cock once more. Csevet cried out, and as he shut his eyes tightly again, Tethimar hissed, “We know what thou need’st, our little whore, and thou shouldst be grateful we insist upon giving it to thee.”


End file.
